Disclaimer: I own neither Decade nor Double; I just fell in love with the characters in both.
Author's Note: There are SPOILERS for Blade, Decade and Double in here (less so for Double at this point, though there will be end-of-series spoilers for Double later on). There is also some gore, so please beware. Thanks for reading!
Part Nine: Twilights of Dew and of Fire
Dopant.
That's the proper name for the creature that the Grongi's fighting, and Tsukasa pauses for a moment, trying to recall all he can about this world. Double's world, which he's touched before, once as DaiShocker's leader and once, very briefly, as Decade. It won't be the same as either of the parallel worlds he's known, but something useful might be in the scattered knowledge he has.
Like the fact that this Dopant is called Weather, and was a nasty piece of work when Tsukasa knew him in the other world. A doctor, but in the Mengele sense of the world. Not that this necessarily means he's a bastard in this world, but people's souls tend to remain the same even if the particulars of their story vary from world to world.
Still… attacking the wrong person would be embarrassing and counterproductive.
The Grongi he's been following is fast and agile, sprinting between cars, dashing erratically from one side of the street to the other despite the rain that's pelting against everything, always angling in on the Dopant. Lightning springs again and again from the Dopant's hand, coming close to but never actually touching the Grongi.
Teeth bared in a feral snarl, the Grongi finally charges straight at the other monster. He gets close, his claws coming scant inches from the creature's throat, but close isn't good enough. With a casual flick of its hand, the Dopant sends an icy column of water laced through with lightning into the center of the Grongi's chest. The Grongi flies backward, slamming into a brick wall with bone-crushing force.
"Enough, Kirihiko-san." The dopant walks toward the Grongi, and he's somehow dry despite the storm raging around them. "You've demonstrated your new abilities quite well. It's time we returned home."
"You hurt him." Standing carefully, one hand braced on the cracked wall behind him, the Grongi snarls at the dopant. "He's just a boy. And you hurt him."
That's enough information for Tsukasa to decide whose side he's on. It's what he wanted, anyway. Even as DaiShocker's leader he hadn't liked Weather—the man was far too arrogant, far too certain of his own superiority and right to do what he wanted. DaiShocker's great leader didn't like others encroaching on his right to hubris.
Smirking, Tsukasa slips a card into DecaDriver.
The Rider kick catches the dopant square in the back, sends him crashing to the ground. It doesn't kill him or knock him out of his kaijin form, though, and Tsukasa frowns in annoyance as the dopant turns to face him. He'd been hoping to end this quickly and easily, so he could get down to the business of interrogating the Grongi.
The energy blast catches him in the back, sends him down to his knees, and he curses. Twisting around, he brings his sword up in time to deflect the next blast, the energy discharging with a sizzle and a hiss of steam.
"My, my…" It's a female voice that caresses the words.
The dopant floats above him, and he rifles through his scattered memories for any information on this one. Taboo. In the Double world he had known she was one of the Sonozakis, the eldest daughter, and someone to be feared.
"You must be one of the new Riders." The dopant zigs left, then right, eyeing him from all directions. "We're quite interested in you, you know. I don't suppose you'd like to come with me?"
"No, thanks." Climbing to his feet with as much dignity as he can manage, he turns to match the dopant's movements. "I'm more a passing-through Kamen Rider."
"Pity." Raising her hands, the dopant collects another ball of energy, unperturbed by the sparks shooting off it as each raindrop strikes. "Though I'm used to men making things more difficult than they need to be."
Diend's blast clips Taboo's arm, twisting her around. "Now, now. It's not just our fault. People in general tend to make things more complicated than they need to be. Though I won't argue about Tsukasa being very good at being difficult."
"I should have known Wakana wouldn't be able to handle you." Floating higher, the Dopant lobs an energy blast at Kaitou.
Diend dodges, coming to stand just behind Decade. "Well, Tsukasa?"
"I am not your shield, Kaitou." Shoving the other man a few feet away, he grabs another card, frowning and putting it back a moment later. Kuuga. Not a form he wants to use right now, and not the card he'd been trying to draw. "Where's Natsumi?"
"Following another one. I haven't seen her for a few minutes." Diend shrugs. "She said she'd be fine."
Tsukasa's snarled response is cut off, Taboo's blast sending the two of them and a large chunk of the road flying.
Fine, then. He'll deal with her as quickly as he can, and then go take care of whatever creature's threatening Natsumi. Fire flickers around his fingers as he draws another card, but it doesn't burn. It's his as much as Decade is, and between the two forces anything that tries to fight him doesn't have a prayer.
XXX
The kaijin doesn't run from her. Of course not. Why should it? It defeated her so easily last time, just a touch, just a gentle caress that invaded her mind, her soul, her being, and she will make him pay for that.
Sword held tight in her right hand, she stalks toward the monster. She will make him pay very dearly for that.
Daiki's gone, the kaijin that he's fighting having slipped down another side street. That's all right, though. She doesn't need him or Tsukasa to do what she needs to do right now. Just herself, just the power growing and surging within her, and she's going to hurt this man. She's going to tear this man apart, rend him limb from limb and dance in his blood, and it will still not be payment enough for what he did to her.
What he did to Yuusuke, and the cry that tears itself from her throat is barely human as she charges him.
The kaijin doesn't move until the last second, sinking into the blackness at his feet. Her sword cleaves the air where he stood, and she howls in frustration.
"I don't want to fight with you, girl." The kaijin's voice comes from behind her, and she whirls. "Or the boy. I would like to learn from you. Study you—"
She laughs as she charges, a sound of pure glee. He could study all he wanted, but this mortal would never be able to understand them. Is too wrapped up in his own plans, his own determination to even attempt to touch a fraction of what they are. And there really isn't time for him to learn, since she will kill him soon and dance upon his corpse.
He dodges again, though he does it with great dignity. Sliding through the darkness that he commands, the terror that he can shape as a weapon, but now that she knows it she can follow it. Watch his swift dash, moving at the speed of dark, and be ready to face him when he rises again.
He's startled, though it only shows as a slight pulling back before he braces himself, arms crossed in front of his chest. He styles himself a god of the mind, and it shows in his form, in his stance. Perhaps he even is touching a god, tapping the power inherent in the earth and in the terror that dogs the lives of all creatures.
But at his core he is still human, a tortured, torturing human, and she laughs again as she runs the edge of her sword along her cheek.
"I'd rather not destroy your mind if I don't have to, child." His deep voice is almost gentle as he holds a hand out to her. "There is a great deal I could stand to learn from you, and a great deal that I could offer. Come with me. Talk with me. We—"
She stalks toward him, slowly, deliberately. With a sigh, he throws the inky darkness of Terror's power at her.
Power she steps through without pausing. It writhes around her ankles, starts to climb up at his command and then falls back. Reaching out with her left hand, she calls a dark column up, caressing it. Destruction. Death. Terror. These are her elements, the things she dances in with reckless abandon, and it is only a fool who would attempt to turn them against her.
"No!" Kenzaki's voice, though how he came to be here she doesn't know.
She pauses, considering, before turning toward the sound.
"No…" He's barely standing, the man with the bright green blood, and despair beats from him like a physical wave. "Please. No."
Not something worth noting, and she turns back to Terror in time to meet the monster that he unleashes on her. A snake-demon, a young thing, and she howls for joy as her sword cleaves through it. The first strike bites deep into its neck, and it squeals as it spins away, loops back toward her at its master's command. The second strike goes between its eyes, and it falls, writhes at her feet, attempts to lash at her with its tail. That's easily taken care of, though, her sword slicing through the offending appendage, sending it flying back toward its master. Blood sprays against her, warm, but separated from her skin by the armor.
She doesn't like that. She shouldn't have anything separating her from the feel of the battlefield, with all its glorious textures. The liquid spray of blood, the harsh texture of mud, gravel, dirt, the sharp cut of metal and bone, all should touch her as she moves through them. Hooking her fingers around the trembling bat that creates her armor, she gently pulls the tiny creature loose.
Spinning, she flings the small thing away, toward the human soul in the demon's body. He'll care for it, she's certain. Finishing the turn, she forges a new sword from the darkness still surrounding her and cleaves the snake's head from its body, relishing the feel of blood spraying into the air, splattering her clothes. An easy jump places her on top of the cooling body, and she stalks along it toward the kaijin that started this all.
"Yuusuke is ours." Blood runs down her face, trickles into her mouth, urged on by a gentle patter of rain. It's been far too long since she did something like this. Danced on the battlefield, relishing her power flowing free, and she twirls for her victim, spins the sword between her hands as only she can. "For the part you played in taking him, you will die."
"Kadoya Tsukasa!" Kenzaki's voice roars above everything else. "Tsukasa!"
Turning back to the man, she stares at him quizzically. The one he's calling isn't here. Is perhaps two blocks away, engaged in his own battle, and she'll join him soon, dance in the fire with him. But she needs to finish this first.
The kaijin uses the distraction to try to run, to use the darkness to transport him somewhere away from her. That simply isn't allowed. Caressing the darkness with her foot, she takes two waltzing steps toward him and freezes the blackness around his legs, holding him in place.
He stares at her, confused but not scared yet. "This isn't the type of person you are. Not the type of skills you're supposed to have. What's happening to you?"
Laughing, she pulls back her sword, lining up the strike. There's no need to talk to him more, and certainly nothing worth saying.
"No." Kenzaki's arms wrap around her, twist her back a handful of steps until he can put himself between her and her prey. "No. You're not like this, Hikari Natsumi. You're not, and if Tsukasa can't even do this job right then I'll damn well do it for him."
"Get out of the way, Blade." She could hurt him, badly, in a variety of ways. He seems to be barely staying on his feet as it is. But she helped save him, and she doesn't want to hurt him. There's no reason to, the bloodlust of battle not having completely claimed her yet.
"You're a Rider. You're not supposed to do things like this." Green blood covers his bare back, has trickled around to run over his chest and stomach.
What would his blood taste like, this kaijin-human creation? This Joker, a life sprung fully formed from fourteen other species. Her tongue flicks out to the corner of her mouth, lapping at the remaining blood there. "I'm not a Rider right now. No armor, no belt. So get—"
"It doesn't matter what you look like." Taking a step toward her, he sways, blinks, finds his balance again. His kaijin form flickers around him before being shoved behind the human façade once more. "You're a Rider, just like me. Your world's Rider, and we don't kill like this. We don't enjoy it. We don't torment our victims. You know that. So what are you doing right now?"
She's taking vengeance for what was done to one of hers. To Yuusuke, who always stands by them, tries to protect them, to protect everyone, and is always, always hurt for it. Is twisted, time and again, into something that is his antithesis, that claws at and hollows out all that he is meant to be. The complement to her and her lover, the light to their darkness, and she will not tolerate what was done to him.
What was done to her, using her against him, and her sword is at Kenzaki's throat, drawing a thin line of inhuman blood. He doesn't move, though. Just stares at her, and the despair that cloaked him before is gone, wiped away, filled in with quiet determination and undying faith.
He trusts her. Just as Yuusuke does, just as Tsukasa does, and the sword starts trembling in her hand.
What is she doing? How is she doing it?
The sword wavers, the essence of Terror used to create it slithering out of her control.
The kaijin moves quickly, striking as soon as her grip weakens. Kenzaki's faster, though, grabbing her and throwing both of them out of the circle of Terror's power. Clambering to her feet, she looks around frantically for Kivala. The bat hesitates only a fraction of a second before fluttering down to her.
Kenzaki kneels at her feet as she transforms, coughing green blood all over the street. When the fit finally passes he slumps fully to the ground, arms wrapped around his chest, eyes barely open.
That's all right, though. He saved her, called her back to herself, and she'll both protect him and keep that from being in vain.
Terror strides toward her, stopping several feet away. "What are you, girl?"
"Hikari Natsumi. Kamen Rider Kivala." Her hand clenches hard around her sword. "The one who's going to stop you. Remember that."
"I'm unlikely to forget you." Terror's tone is amused as he circles around her, keeping the same distance between them. "But you're hardly a Kamen Rider. At least, not at your most interesting. I think this is one experiment I'd like to see play out further before taking action."
The darkness that he commands wraps around him, spirits him away. She could have stopped it, maybe, jumped into the blackness with him, but she's afraid. Not of the darkness and the despair anymore, but of the thing inside her that answers to it, so she lets him go.
Kenzaki smiles tiredly at her as she kneels down by his side, Kivala's armor falling away. "Good job, Natsumi. Really good job."
"Thank you." Taking his hand, she pulls him to his feet, slipping his arm around her shoulders and supporting him. "For… for helping me."
"I didn't do much." He limps, leaning hard against her. The bare skin of his chest and back is cool, smeared with both his green blood and the monster's purple blood that's coating her. The rain that's falling from the sky in unsteady sheets will help clean him off, though, and he's healing incredibly quickly. "Do you know where Tsukasa is?"
"N… yes." Yes, though there's no way she should. She and Daiki had beaten him out of the house, and she'd been distracted by Terror before really getting a chance to see where the Grongi and Tsukasa were heading.
More than his location, she knows some of what he's thinking. Knows that fire is spilling out from him, raging against the water that one of the kaijin wields, and he's barely Tsukasa anymore.
Slipping her arm out from under Kenzaki, she sprints toward the sounds of thunder. There's no time to explain to him what's going on, and nothing he could do even if she did.
The only one who can reach Tsukasa—the thing inside Tsukasa—the one who can dance in the fire with him and calm the frenzy, is her.
XXX
"Tsukasa!"
The man isn't paying any attention to him. Turning in a slow circle, Decade surveys the three dopants facing him. Fire crawls across his armor, flickers and slithers along the planes of his Rider form in red tongues, orange flares, fireflies of blue. He seems completely unperturbed by it, too, just as he's completely undisturbed by the fact that he's surrounded by three fairly powerful opponents. One of whom should really be dead, since that was the usual outcome of shattering into many pieces, but given who he's fighting alongside Kaitou supposes he shouldn't be so hung up on that.
"Let go." The Grongi struggles against his hold, kicking impotently.
"Let's see. If I let you go, are you going to just stand here?"
The kaijin's snarl throws drops of red blood onto Diend's blue armor. Kaitou stares at it unhappily until the rain washes it away.
"Since you're insisting on trying to attack us, I'm going to have to keep you here." Kaitou tightens his hold on the Grongi's arms, ensuring that the man can't slip loose. "Sorry."
The Grongi's next words are lost in the sound of swords clashing and bits of buildings blowing up as Tsukasa and the three kaijin close again. Tsukasa doesn't bother changing forms, using his right hand for sword work and directing the fire that's surrounding him to attack with his left.
Everything about his fighting style's all wrong. Usually Tsukasa moves economically, almost lazily, using whatever form happens to be on the top of his deck rather than what will give him the best tactical advantage.
Now, though, Tsukasa moves with a casual grace, seeming almost to be hindered by the armor. It's a dance, practically, a deadly dance where he is fast, elegant, and completely in control despite the fact that his partners are all determined to kill him and theoretically have the power needed to do so.
"Please." The Grongi continues to struggle, more wildly now but with even less strength. "That's my wife."
Kaitou eyes the two female kaijin. "I'm sorry for you."
Another snarl, another mouthful of blood splattering against Diend as he tries to hold the thrashing kaijin still, and Kaitou sighs in frustration. "I'm sorry for you because your wife is evidently working with the man who beat the crap out of you."
That stops the Grongi's struggling, and it's only the minute trembling of the man's exhausted muscles that lets Kaitou know he hasn't passed out. "She's not… it's not…"
"We'll talk about it later. Look, we just want to get you away from them. Come with us, let us ask you some Grongi things, and then if you really want you can go find your… wife again. You're not in any shape to fight all five of us right now, anyway. Now, if I let you go, promise to control yourself and not attack anyone?"
"Control…?" The word stumbles off the Grongi's tongue as though he's never heard it before, but after a few seconds he straightens, nodding. "Yes. For now, I can control myself. Why are you staying with me, though? Why not render me unconscious and help your companion?"
Because his companion isn't someone he can help right now. Because there's an imprint of Decade's hand burned into the back of Diend, charring through deep enough to burn Kaitou's skin. It hadn't been intentional, he's certain—had actually been meant to help him, a shove to send them both clear of one of the floating kaijin's energy blasts. Grongi and monsters and Yuusuke being temporarily evil he can deal with. Tsukasa burning everything around him, Tsukasa barely being Tsukasa and unintentionally hurting him… he can't.
All he says to the Grongi is, "You sound pretty sophisticated when you're not spitting blood all over me."
Before the Grongi can respond two objects clatter to the ground at his feet.
RideBooker and DecaDriver. Kaitou stares at them, not wanting to look up, not wanting to try to figure out what to do next.
"Kaitou Daiki." It's Tsukasa's voice. It looks like Tsukasa, like a gorgeous, perfect, totally-on-fire-and-sans-shirt Tsukasa. Two swords made of flame curl up from his hands, and he smiles as he turns back to the fight. "Take care of those for me."
He was fast before; now he seems to move like the wind, like a wildfire pushed ever onward. Gravity doesn't seem to be a problem for him, either, as he sprints up the side of a building, dances off a scrap of fog to bury one of his swords in the floating kaijin's side. She falls with a scream of agony, kaijin form fading to that of a young woman who glares murder at Tsukasa before passing out. The other female kaijin's form flickers and falls as she runs to the fallen one's side, leaving Tsukasa and the white monstrosity that shoots lightning bolts to face each other.
"You're quite the interesting specimen, boy." The kaijin raises one hand, and the rain that's been pelting them steadily increases in intensity. "But fire has this bad tendency of burning out quickly."
"Not this fire." Tsukasa's smile is beatific as he rubs the dried, charred blood from his sword off on his pants. "You've no idea what you're playing with, Isaka."
They close like forces of nature, but it's quickly obvious who's going to win. Isaka wields the elements well, but Tsukasa commands the fire surrounding him as though it were his skin, and for all the grace that fills this new fighting style of his it's deadly dangerous.
It's when Isaka starts trying to run that everything really goes wrong, though. Tsukasa toys with him, herding him first one way and then another, giving him a small nick here, a thin slice there, occasionally tossing him into buildings, and the kaijin doesn't stand a chance. Is going to die slowly, a mouse toyed with by a cat, and Tsukasa isn't supposed to smile like that while doing something like this. Even as DaiShocker's great leader he didn't—
"Stop him." The Grongi's fists are clenched at his side, his face twisted in disdain and horror. "Stop him or I will."
"I can't… how am I supposed to…"
Natsumi doesn't look at them as she sprints past. Doesn't shout or say anything, just throws herself onto Tsukasa, and Kaitou finds himself reaching for her too late to do anything at all.
She doesn't burn, though. The fire spreads out to her, caresses her, flows from her hair, her skin, her clothes, and she exhales a soft trail of sparks before smiling. "Don't, love."
"He's one of them." Tsukasa's arms go around her, pull her tight against him, but his eyes are fixed on the kaijin. "He helped… he gave them ideas. Suggestions on how best to break him. What type of people to hurt, what memories to force on him, what the probable effects of Terror would be. Oath breaker. Murderer. Torturer."
The kaijin crawls away from them, dragging a broken leg behind it, and Tsukasa's smile grows.
"No." Natsumi's hands go to either side of his face, force him to look at her. "No. That isn't our role. These avatars are still tainted, still far too human, and thus we become tools of vengeance. But we're more than that. Better than that, and so are these avatars. We will not be monsters, no matter what he has planned. You had a chance to dance a bit of your tandava, love. Care to dance some of the lasya with me?"
She steps away from him, her hands sliding down until they hold his. His eyes flick from the kaijin crawling slowly away to Natsumi, and his expression softens. The smile that steals over his face is filled to overflowing with love, devotion, simple joy, so very different from the smile that was there not a minute before, and he allows Natsumi to lead him away.
He'd thought Tsukasa was graceful when dancing alone. He was wrong. Watching Tsukasa spin with Natsumi, he understands what grace personified truly means. Every action is fraught with meaning, with emotion, and those emotions spill out of the dance, out of the dancers, infecting everything around them.
Kaitou isn't sure how long they watch the two of them. Seconds, minutes, hours, hell, he might believe it if someone told him it had been days. The thunderstorm's over as Natsumi and Tsukasa finally come to a stop, moonlight spilling across the urban landscape as the last flickers of fire fall from their hair to die out on the cracked and shattered pavement of the battleground. The kaijin are gone; the Grongi sits at Kaitou's side, in his human form finally, though the shredded, bloody business suit doesn't go with the emotion on his face or the tears in his eyes.
It's Kenzaki who goes to the two of them, limping from the shadows to stand behind Natsumi and gently pull her free of Tsukasa's grasp. Natsumi and Tsukasa fight him, at first, but once she's free of Tsukasa's hands Natsumi shakes her head and retreats another half dozen steps.
She's the one who comes over to Kaitou first, and he watches her warily. Her smile is still her own, though, as she takes his hand. "Drop the armor, Daiki. Please."
His voice is surprisingly steady as he speaks, and he's glad he can manage that. "What do I get if I do?"
"The best treasure in the world." The lilting, teasing note to her voice doesn't match the tears or the fears in her eyes. "Please, Daiki…"
As soon as the armor's off she hugs him, just like he thought she would, and he doesn't know what to do about it.
"Tell me I'm human." It's the softest whisper, spoken directly into his ear. "Please, Daiki, tell me I'm human."
"You're human. You're Hikari Natsumi, and you're human." They're both lies, he thinks, and he hates lies. There are really only three people in the multiverse that he'd lie for, and she's damn lucky she's one of them. One of his treasures, and he tightens his arms around her. He doesn't give up his treasures without a fight. "You're Hikari Natsumi. You're human."
Her breath shivers out in a sigh of relief, and he can feel her muscles relax as she nods. "Right." Pulling back, she smiles at him. There's nothing of the fire or the dance in that smile anymore. "Thanks."
"No problem. Though you owe me a treasure now."
"A hug from a friend's the best treasure anyone can get, right?"
He frowns at her, because that's entirely untrue. "I'd really prefer some interesting piece of tech. At least an expensive jewel."
"I could give you pepper again."
Tsukasa laughs and smirks, watching the two of them from behind Kenzaki. Keeping a safe buffer zone between himself and Natsumi again, but Kaitou's very determined not to think about that right now.
Scowling harder, the thief crosses his arms in front of his chest. "What, Tsukasa? Do you need a hug, too?"
"No." Striding around to Kenzaki's other side, Tsukasa surveys their small group, including the Grongi who's now lying flat on the ground.
Reaching out with his foot, Kaitou gingerly nudges the Grongi. The man blearily opens his eyes, staring up at him for a moment. He tries to rise, gets partway to his feet and collapses back to the ground. This time he doesn't move at all when nudged. Turning back to Tsukasa, Kaitou sighs. "Let me guess. We're taking this one home, too? If that's the case, you can carry him."
Kenzaki's head jerks up, eyes scanning the horizon. "We need to go soon. Sirens."
"Let's go, then." Tsukasa starts walking away, fingers hooked in the pockets of his black jeans. How he managed to burn his shirt and not his pants Kaitou's not certain, and he's really not curious enough to ask. Looking back over his shoulder, Tsukasa nods at the Grongi. "Bring our guest, Kaitou."
"Like hell." Stepping over the prone Grongi, Kaitou stalks after the other man. "Your guest, you carry him."
Natsumi grabs them both by an arm. She barely flinches when her hand touches Tsukasa's bare skin—if he hadn't been watching for it, Kaitou might have missed it. "You'll both carry him. Now. You know what'll happen if you don't. Kenzaki, don't even try it. We've had enough injuries for one day."
Stepping away from the prone man with a sheepish grin, Kenzaki straightens slowly. "All right. Quick, though. We've got a lot to talk about, and given… everything, I'm afraid we might not have much time."
"Thanks for killing the mood." Kaitou scowls at the man as he helps Tsukasa lift the prone Grongi.
He wouldn't be so annoyed with the kaijin if he weren't afraid that Kenzaki's right.